Suspect Couches
by Yeto
Summary: Jenna: sister. Gina: girlfriend. Beth is clearly having a very difficult time with this concept. CM: Suspect Behavior fic, it's not terrible! Oneshot.


Whoo this is my first CM(SB) story. I finally decided to brave the fandom.. with a spinoff oneshot. Haters you are welcome to hate, come at me bros. Actual reviews on this little funfest of confusion are incredibly welcome as well!

**Disclaimer**: If I owned SB Gina would actually have lines. Most of them would be about how great a boyfriend Mick is. So while it's probably best I'm just writing for fun, it's a shame too.

I fully admit to supporting ships that don't conflict with my OTP to remove the conflict. See: The Fight was a terrible episode because that Mick/Emily thing was YUCK and I'm an Emily/Reid shipper (HATERS WELCOME, AGAIN) buuut the spinoff itself is.. actually pretty good! So we just pass Mick off to the underspoken blondie and there's no problem.  
>The best thing is this fic entirely falls under the realm of 'canon' and isn't much of a stretch! All is explained within. Happens about one case after Smother, SPOILERS for that episode. Also I'd just like to say I predicted the entire Mick storyline when the episode summary was released, and knew right away who his mysterious caller was (if I was wrong I was legit about to quit watching SB forever). Maybe I SHOULD write the show...<p>

Whether you enjoy the spinoff or not (I thought I'd hate it but the M/G potential... help me) hopefully you can at least enjoy this! Thanks for reading and please, leave a review if you could! It'll help me for when I actually churn out an Emily/Reid fic... or the sequel to this one.

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><p>Beth Griffith still can't believe it. She physically walked right into it, and she never saw it coming. Now there's the nagging question in her mind, is she really as good at profiling as she thinks? Sure, she knows her way around a bomb fiasco and she can stare at a dead body and figure out what the sick sadist who killed her got off to, but this was right in front of her and she missed it.<p>

She leans over the back of Prophet's couch, making sure he's still at his table catching up on the week's newspapers.

"Did you know about it? About them?" she asks tentatively, unsure if he really cares to talk about it.

But Simms is a tranquil sort, and tranquility is met when questions are answered. So he mulls over how to best tell Beth she shouldn't beat herself up too much.

"I had guessed. They drive separate cars but they always follow the same route. After enough months you start to realize they're going to the same place," he muses, reflecting on how everything but their driving habits had been so secure.

Beth frowns, reflecting briefly on how she has missed this detail: she never charted their driving habits, but Prophet would have driven the same way as them for enough blocks to clue in.

He can tell she's still bothered by the fact she was just blindsided by her discovery. There was truly no question what had been going on at one Gina LaSalle's apartment when the shorter woman had stopped by, her own apartment being fumigated for termites.

"You need to let it out. Tell me what happened. It's really kind of funny," he coaxes, hoping to ease her up. His apartment's walls aren't very thick and if she tosses and turns on his couch all night the creaky furniture will likely keep him awake as well.

And so Beth begins to detail just what went on mere hours prior.

Fresh off the plane, Beth had returned to her apartment complex to get her much-needed beauty sleep, only to discover the building had been sealed off for termite control. She had demanded they let her in anyway, she was with the BAU, the FBI, the Secret Service, the whatever-notable-government-division would get her into her bedroom so she could pass out.

But of course, a fumigated building is not a safe building for any government official, so Beth was forced to reconsider her options. As she'd told Cooper mere weeks before, after her latest transfer she lacked any emergency contacts, meaning between flying out so much and working all the time, she had no close friends who would be willing to let her have their couch for a night or two.

This left a member of the team, who would surely be generous enough to give their newest girl a soft, cushioned surface to pass out on.

She had gone through the list as she'd walked back to her car: Cooper lived too far away and she felt like she'd be forcing herself onto him, as he'd without a doubt be too nice to turn her away, even if it inconvenienced him greatly. She couldn't remember Prophet's address and her handy Team Contact information was in her locker back at their headquarters, which in retrospect was an extremely useless place for it to be. Mick's address eluded her as well, probably because she had never actually seen it, not to mention he'd be liable to hit on her the entire night. Sure, she could call either of them, but that felt awkward to her. Calling a guy she worked with to find out where he lived so she could take his couch. Beth wondered if that was really what her life had slumped to.

That left Gina, who had given Beth her address with the invitation to come over any time. They could do girly FBI things together. The blonde woman had probably been excited to get another field agent on the team of her own gender, instead of being surrounded by three men who would never want to get their nails done.

The solution was obvious. Beth set out for her coworker's apartment complex with the steely determination of an overworked government employee who had been severely put out.

Go bag in hand, Beth had walked cheerfully down the hall that led to Gina's corner apartment. It wouldn't do to just grumble and frown the whole while she was trying to get a free place to stay. A hotel was superfluous, they'd probably get a call to mobilize at 2 in the morning anyway, and paying a whole night's fare for four hours' worth of use wasn't her idea of a good time.

She had knocked on the door politely, trying not to let her hands slam the frame like she'd wanted to in her tired state.

The knock came as quite a surprise to Gina, who had not been expecting anyone at 9:34PM. The only other person who was likely to be found in her apartment was already there, and could presently be found mere inches above her, lifting his head from her neck to glare at the door.

"You answer it," she had quickly commanded, shoving him playfully off as her hand reached out to find her missing bra, or at least her shirt.

Her disgruntled companion had mumbled his dismay at the situation before yanking his own shirt off the floor and casually shrugging it on.

He'd tossed the door open, prepared to yell at whoever was knocking to go away, before looking down and seeing none other than Beth Griffith, trying hard to look happy despite her extremely tired mental state.

Beth's eyes had gone wide at seeing Mick Rawson answering Gina LaSalle's door with his shirt undone. But she was willing to believe perhaps they were just playing a game and Gina liked to have her thermostat around 10 degrees above Mick's comfort level, or he was 'borrowing' her apartment for the night, perhaps because hers was quite classy and he wanted to leave a good impression.

"Beth!" had been exclaimed from the British agent after several extremely awkward minutes of silence and confused stares.

And the brunette was ready to apologize for interrupting and walk away oblivious, secret safe, but the surprised shout of their coworker's name had caused Gina to pop her head up into visible range from the couch previously occupied by her and Mick.

Beth might have been convinced they were just watching a movie together, but her eyes were in overdrive looking for clues as to what exactly was going on in Gina's apartment.

It seemed poor Gina had yet to put her upper clothing back on, and the plainly bare shoulders of the blonde agent left no question in Beth's mind as to what the blonde really was up to with Mick.

"You're sleeping together," Beth Griffith blurted out, which was probably the only thing one could really say in a situation like that.

This triggered Gina to realize she was still missing a shirt, which she quickly shimmied into before awkwardly standing up and walking to her door. She exchanged several silent but animated glances with Mick, who eventually rolled his eyes and spoke, insisting they just tell her.

Suddenly Beth felt very small.

"Surprise?" he weakly laughed, an awkward smile taking up residence on his face.

"Is this why I've never heard anything about where Mick lives?" the brunette accused, starting to put the pieces together in her mind.

"It didn't make much sense to rent two places when we're barely here anyway, but he has his own PO box. Nobody ever noticed they were for the same building," Gina explained, looking slightly amused she and Mick had managed to hide it for so long, especially from Beth.

"But… but what about Elise? Lisa? Her name is so irrelevant but what about her and all the other girls you slept… what?" This was clearly not going well for Beth's blood pressure, or mental facilities.

"That was Gina's idea. It was clever, eh? We choose a name the night before in case anyone asks who the dashingly handsome FBI bachelor took home last night. One of us forgets fairly often enough and then we just banter about it. It convinced you, though, so, it's a fair strategy," Mick shot the blonde an affectionate look, obviously proud of her skillful means of deception.

Beth was not convinced she had missed this. It wasn't every day two FBI coworkers in the same division on the same team _in the same office_ managed to hide the fact they were living together and engaging in evidently fulfilling, monogamous sex regularly.

"How long? I mean, I try not to pry, I can be nosy and loud and people tend to get annoyed by it but I can't believe I never had a clue," she stuttered, still fairly awestruck this had been happening under her nose. Even her watchful eye for hints as to Mick's current relationship status had proven to be entirely false, if this was any indication.

"A while before you joined the team. Mick pretends to flirt around with some random girl to keep up appearances that he's single and unattached but, obviously, they're nothing to him," Gina shrugs, not very shocked Beth had completely missed this. Unlike the brunette herself. The blonde seemed fully confident in her hold over the Brit, entirely unconcerned with his fleeting words to other women.

Beth is unable to formulate another question. The overload of information, tumbling into her brain as it tries in vain to make sense of this and look for the clues she'd never seen before, renders her speechless, for the first time in a very, very long time.

"What were you doing here anyway? You looked pretty beat up on the plane, I thought you'd be going straight home," Mick asks, though it's not accusatory, merely curious.

This snaps Beth out of her stupor, and she hotly explains some idiot decided to get termites in his apartment and she's gassed out for another day or two. The two agents nod in understanding, sympathetic looks on their faces.

"I was going to ask if I could keep your couch warm tonight but I can see you've got that covered…" the brunette smiles weakly, trying to crack a joke despite her fatigued state of mind.

"If you need a place to stay it's fine, we can, uh, relocate or just go to bed," Gina begins, before Mick shoots her a displeased glare at the latter suggestion, one that Beth absolutely does not miss, "Maybe we won't go to bed then. I know Prophet has a couple couches, he likes to host parties for sports games, when we're actually here, and his football-worshipping friends need somewhere to sit."

The suggestion seems like the best one possible: Beth would hate to intrude on her fellow profilers' nighttime activities, which had previously remained unknown to her, and she'd really hate to have to listen to them from Gina's couch.

Beth takes one final look at the offending piece of furniture as the knowledge she'll have to call Prophet then drive to where he lives will take so much more time than is necessary registers in her brain, before realizing she has absolutely no clue what sort of substances have dried on that couch.

Her mind is made up for her. To Prophet's couch harem she'll go.

"Thanks for the suggestion. Have, um, a good night, sorry to barge in on you… um I'll just be leaving now, bye," she ineloquently splutters out, entirely unsure how to phrase anything properly anymore with her mind as blown as it is by this discovery.

She partially turns, preparing to rush out of this cursed apartment complex and never look back, but as Mick slowly shuts the door, something occurs to her, and she's so tired her filter is completely gone and she can't help but ask it, despite knowing what a dumb question this is and she really should just shut up.

"So wait, Jenna is…" she trails off, the question obvious. Mick pauses, opening the door up wider so Gina can see Beth once again.

"My sister. She's the only real girl I call, the rest of the time it's just Gina on the phone," he explains, patient enough to forgive her intrusiveness.

"I really shouldn't have said that, I don't know where my mind is right now. I need to go to sleep, I feel like a jerkoff showing up here and interrogating you and barging in on your evening," Beth rambles on, truly not sure what she's saying anymore.

"It's fine. Just give Prophet a call, you won't be forcing yourself on him, he'll probably just be reading the paper," Gina shrugs, unconcerned by Beth's frazzled brain cells.

"But Jenna and Gina sound so similar…" it's out of Beth's mouth before she even thinks about it. She makes a fish-like gasping sound, mouth open and lips quavering slowly, and it's at this point she figures it would be extremely convenient if her superpower was conjuring up random black holes right under her feet.

"People say you look for your mother in the girl you marry," Mick curtly states, and his expression droops slightly. Beth notices, now hyperaware of everything regarding the two profilers, and she figures he means he doesn't recall much about his mother so instead he sought someone like his sister.

The idea of Gina actually being Mick's sister flies through Beth's mind, and soon enough all she can see is a redneck version of her coworkers, dressed in overalls and barefoot, straw clinging from their hair and the early signs of genetic deformity due to extended generational incest littering their facial structure.

She's going to sue Convenient Black Hole Placement for all it's worth in the morning.

Beth mumbles a couple more awkward farewells and apologies and scurries off down the hall, hearing the door click shut behind her.

She calls Prophet as soon as she's finished her deep breathing exercises. Her stress level must be off the charts right now. He tells her a shortcut and soon enough she's there, walking in through his door looking like she just went through shock therapy.

He begins with the ever-so-obvious and inevitable 'why aren't you at Gina's' and Beth cannot maintain her fake happy face anymore. She glares at him, and because the Prophet is not a stupid man, he raises his hands slightly, palms out, to signify he's content to never know the story.

She sits on the softest of his couches and stares blankly at the wall while he grabs a few blankets. When he walks back he wonders if she's slipped into a coma but she reacts when the linens drop next to her and thanks him. Sitting down at his kitchen table to finish that Tuesday's paper, he waits for her to start talking. Beth Griffith can never stay quiet.

"Did you… have you… they're sleeping… okay Mick and Gina are having sex," she finally gets out, voice strained and sounding very confused.

Prophet's eyebrows rocket up his forehead, but Beth is still having a staring contest with his wall so she doesn't notice, and instead takes his stunned silence as an attempt to stop himself from laughing at her ignorance. She tells him to keep laughing it up, though he protests.

"I'm not laughing. Really. It doesn't surprise me, he likes blondes and he needs stability, she's got both, they're profilers, it's not hard to hide when you know what signs your friends will look for," Simms muses, smirking to himself as he's glad his theory was proven correct. He had long suspected they were romantically involved since he'd gotten a list of FBI agent households and noticed Mick's address was the same as Gina's. He might have ruled it off as they lived in the same building but he double checked and the number was the same.

Mick would never live with a girl unless he was sleeping with her, he'd reasoned. It would mean he'd never be able to bring another girl home, because really, who would want to get it on with the Brit while a pretty blonde was off watching television, and his ego wouldn't let him seem homeless by always asking to go to his date's home.

"Did Coop know? It seems like telling him would be a risk, if he reported it," Beth asks, mind slowing down and pondering the finer details now.

"He hates FBI politics. I'd imagine Mick told him so he could sit there with his secret laughing as his team broke bureau regulation, since it's a stupid regulation," Prophet comments, chuckling to himself at the idea of Cooper taunting rule sticklers by dangling his agents' relationship right behind their heads.

"What if Penelope knows? She probably has sex tapes of them…" Beth blurts out, once again not thinking before she speaks. The sheer hilarity of their resident computer goddess watching Mick going at Gina while talking to one of them on the phone and running searches on sex offenders caused both profilers to start laughing.

By the time Beth was able to stop, she had resigned herself to sleep, and excused herself from the conversation to pass out on Prophet's couch. He finished his last paper and went to his own room, ready to join her in the land of dreams.

The brunette's breathing was heavy, and she was oddly still, as if she was trying to force herself to sleep. His walls were quite thin, after all, so it was almost creeper-tier how easy it was to hear every little movement. Prophet lay there, mulling over what Beth had told him, or tried to tell him and left him to fill in the details for himself. He wasn't feeling overly tired, and the woman on his couch certainly wasn't asleep yet, so, seeing as how his walls were so thin, he called out to her.

"Do you think they cuddle?"


End file.
